


Keep Getting Better

by culturevulture73



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Sibling incest implied, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14815713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/culturevulture73/pseuds/culturevulture73
Summary: As they say, time to treat yourself, especially when it's someone's birthday...





	Keep Getting Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NotebookishType](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotebookishType/gifts).



"So, what do you want for your birthday?"

Han Solo shot a look at Luke Skywalker over the mug of Corellian ale. "Birthday…" Then it clicked into place. Even this second year after Endor, with the New Republic in ascendance, they were still hip deep in mopping up the last remnants of the Empire. "Hadn't realized."

"So, think." Luke shrugged, looking up under his lashes, over the small table at him. They were in one of the hundred watering holes ringing the main Coruscant spaceport, anonymous in a crowd of New Republic pilots, spacefarers and tourists.

"Galactic peace," Han said after a moment's deliberation.

Luke laughed shortly. "You trying out for the Galactic Pageant, male being division? Han Solo, representing Corellia, what's the one thing you think would make the galaxy a better place?"

Han scowled at him. "Galactic peace means that three of us could be together – hell, in one place would be enough. We have a new apartment we've barely been in. You're flying all over, I'm flying all over, Leia's always tied up with very important Senate business – I saw more of you when we were fightin' the war."

Luke looked down at his mug. "I'm sorry."

Han smiled, slid a hand across Luke's around his mug. "Not your fault, kid. Not any of our faults. Blame the Empire. I do." Then he slid into a crooked grin. "Of course, I also thank them on occasion, because I'd've never met you or Leia otherwise."

Skywalker smiled that bashful smile Han had fallen for years ago. "Yeah," he said wistfully, then shifted gears. "Birthday. What. Do. You. Want?"

Han sighed. "What do I want?" He drained his drink. "Dinner. Just the three of us. Together. Somewhere nice but not too overdone. Not somewhere Lando would send us – Wedge knows the best places before anybody else, surprise me. Then we go home – together. Wake up together. Hell, I'd be happy if we really just slept together at this point, I mean actual sleep. Then next morning, have some fun," he said, leering, and Luke laughed, "have breakfast in bed, like we're normal people, not galactic heroes."

"Just that?"

"Just that."

*******  
Standing in the master closet of their new apartment, Princess (soon to be seated Senator) Leia Organa surveyed the clothes that were hung in haphazard sets and knew the next item on their move in list had to be to add to the sad ranks of their combined wardrobe. Now that they had a place to call their own, lives to call their own, not dictated by a war, they needed to do more for themselves. She and Luke had managed to add one item, now hung on the door to the closet, for Han's birthday – a new shirt. She slid hangers about in her section and at last, found a dress for her mood. She pulled it down and draped it around her. She hadn't worn something so non-dutylike in ages – mid calf, a swirl of bright colors, she felt like the spring that was trying to rise across Coruscant. She was staring at the boxes of her shoes as Luke, towel wrapped around him, stepped up behind her.

"Watch it, you're dripping," she mock growled at him, then collected a kiss. "Wear something not black to dinner tonight – at least your shirt."

"Not sure I have something."

"No, you do." She stepped over to the row of shirts, his and Han's intermixed. "That dark green one that Han and I got you – there it is." It shimmered in the light. "And those nice pants and the jacket, so you don't look like you're going to war. Get Han's jacket and pants, too, put it with the shirt so he gets the idea. He should be home soon, if he's still on the track he sent us this morning."

***  
When his actual birthday – well, as actual as it could be, figured from orphanage records – dawned, Han was pushing the Falcon on its last jump to Coruscant. He'd celebrated early with Chewie's family on Kashyyk and then left the Wookie for an extended visit home. He knew he could make the milk run back on his own. Safe space lanes, a novelty to which Han was slowly becoming accustomed.

He hoped that Luke and Leia were there – they had promised when he told them he'd be home, but he knew as much as they did, it was hard to get all their schedules coordinated. Some weeks, they seemed to conduct their lives in messages sent on data pads and flimsies left on the kitchen island.

After a long parking orbit, securing the Falcon and then finally a frustratingly slow rush hour speeder cab ride home, he was expecting the dark, empty apartment. Well, he'd had worse birthdays – starving, jail, carbonite… 

He turned on the lights, dragging his small case in behind him to their work room to unpack later, then headed for the master bedroom and the fresher. Hanging on the door to the closet was a grey shirt, with a flimsy attached, telling him where to meet them. 

*******

The speeder cab pulled up to the pocket park that was the center of their area of Coruscant, grass trying mightily to survive among trees from several worlds spread around a tiny pond with a waterfall. Various shops and restaurants were arranged around it, a city square to give the eyes a bit of a break from the insanity of the city's towers and speeder traffic. The sun was slowly heading down, not that it was obvious in the glare of the unceasing lights. He stopped a minute as he disembarked, scanning for them.

Leia saw Luke look over to the south entrance a second before she sensed, as he obviously did, Han stepping out of the cab. Even in the safety of their new home, she could see him scan for trouble and loved him for it – he would probably never let that ingrained attunement to his surroundings go. But he strode up to them with a bright grin; they could be anyone else in the park now, not warriors. Luke and Han in jackets and relaxed pants not their military cut trousers – she tried to remember the last time she had seen Han not in bloodstripes or Luke in Jedi black out in the world. Han was wearing the shirt they'd carefully picked out and she was thrilled they'd chosen well, its almost purple sheen set off his eyes.

They embraced and traded welcome home kisses. She inhaled his scent, it felt so good to be enveloped in their arms, she could feel Luke's love meeting hers through the Force; they would have to see if Han, now that he sort of almost believed, might be able to feel what they did. 

For now, she could just read Han's smile and him lifting her to spin her around. "Happy birthday, Nerfherder. Put me down."

"Thanks. I'll spin Luke next time, maybe he'll like it better."

Luke shifted to his fighting stance, grinning, as Han grabbed his arm to try and lift him. "Like you could pick me up."

"Always, you need to put some weight on, kid, you're too thin." He pulled them both in, laughing. "Thank you. You made it happen."

"Well, we couldn't exactly make galactic peace yet, but we're closer," Leia said, smirking. .

Luke continued. "And we're together at least and none of us have to get up tomorrow morning either."

"Oh, I'm liking this birthday thing already. So where are we eating, Luke?"

"Bantha Bantha Tauntaun – Wedge wants us to go because he saw the chef on one of those reality shows he watches. I looked at the menu and it's not too spicy for either of you."

"No," Leia corrected. "I'm fine with spicy, I just don't want so much spice I can't breathe, like you like. Why a planet with no water eats things so hot..." 

Han rolled his eyes and pulled them so each was under an arm. "C'mon, let's stop arguing about food and go eat some."

 

"Look at us, huh?" Han set down his wine glass as the appetizer was cleared away. "Here with the normal folks." The restaurant was busy and buzzing with mostly humans but for once, no one was looking their way and Luke's reservation under Skywalker had drawn no recognition from the Togruta hostess.

"We're normal, too," Luke objected. At their combined raised eyebrows, he sighed. "Okay, we're closer than we've ever been. We're all here together, out with all the beings with regular jobs, not fighting a war. We even own a home now. The fate of the galaxy doesn't really depend on us – at least this week." 

He sat back, sipping carefully at the wine, a Chalandrian vintage that the waiter had recommended. The restaurant was welcoming, looking like a dressed up diner, patrons able to watch the chefs and droids working in the open kitchen. The music was subdued and so was conversation at the tables around them, dampened expertly. The meal had not only been delicious so far, it was relaxing. Luke savored watching his two favorite humans banter as they devoured the appetizer of some sort of crispy chips covered in various toppings that Leia had analyzed – it was a play on an Alderaanian favorite but it didn't make her sad as he feared for a moment, she enjoyed it. With her hair only partially up and her eyes sparkling like the tasteful earrings she wore, she was happy as he hadn't seen her in ages. He caught Han's eye at one point and saw him notice it too. The Corellian was happy too, his usual snark playful, feeding off their emotions. In return, Luke had dropped his usual Jedi reserve, now almost the excitable farmboy he'd once been.

"Well, until Leia gets seated with the Senate," Han pointed out.

Leia sighed. "Don’t remind me. I still have staff to hire and an office to set up while you two get to galavant around."

"I'll trade you that for teaching the new pilots," Han countered.

Luke drifted a bit, enjoying as always Han and Leia's easy banter as they tried to top each other with who had had a worse few weeks. He had so missed this. He felt whole again with them close.

They were digging into the main course, sliding bites of each of their entrees onto each other's plates, when Leia smiled devilishly. "I can see that set of girls over there just green with envy." When they both looked puzzled, she rolled her eyes. "I'm sitting here with the two best looking men in the place, they should be envious."

As Luke expected, Han preened. "Well, of course they should be. Just like all the men in this joint should be envious of us."

She raised her glass in acknowledgement. "Plus I know how to best show you off. I thought that color would look good on you, Han."

He looked down at his plate, suddenly quiet. "I didn't need a present – dinner was more than enough."

"Yes, you did," Leia said strongly. "We all need to start doing more for ourselves. We need to make ourselves a home out of our new place, buy comforting things to fill it. We've done without for the war for ages, time to reward ourselves a little. And you, you've never had a chance to be spoiled. We're going to spoil ourselves a little."

Han looked up. "Y'know, you're right, we're heroes."

Luke smiled and laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess we are." He lifted his glass. "To us, then."

Han added. "To us."

Leia grinned. "Still my favorite short stormtrooper and fly boy."

*******

Han led them through the door, all of them moving slowly from the big meal and the long day to get to it. But this was the best part of the day to him, the gentle joshing and simply being together as they took off and put away clothes, then waited each other out for the shower, Luke, always the fastest, going first. Leia pulled her legs up under her on the comfy couch, flipping to the late news as she snuggled into Han. He idly looked at smashball league scores as she muttered about the latest craziness. Han felt at home as he never had before.

He was the last to leave the bathroom, smiling as he stood in the doorway, watching for a long minute Leia curled up in bed, tapping out a quick message to her staff, Luke perched on his meditation cushion in the bay window seat, oblivious to the light parade still almost visible through the blackout shading.

They both looked up as he turned off the fresher lights. Luke unfolded himself from his cushion and stood, stretching. "So, is this the birthday you requested?"

"Almost perfect." He grinned at Luke's puzzled look. "I seem to remember something about us all being in bed together. Put that away, Princess."

She grinned, shutting it down and setting it on the nightstand. "Well, c'mon then. I mean, it's still your birthday. Shouldn't you actually be in your birthday suit?"

"Absolutely." He slipped off his sleep pants, threw them in the direction of the chair that held the comforter and sham pillows. He watched appreciatively as Leia sat up from the covers and tossed her nightgown to land on top of his, then as Luke floated his sleep pants over to join their nightclothes. "Now it's perfect."

**Author's Note:**

> For notebookishtype - hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Thanks as always to jessebee for above and beyond beta!
> 
> If you are a hardcore fan of a certain cooking show on Bravo, you may notice an in joke....
> 
> Prompt: I love fluffy downtime or domestic fluff for these three. Day off, family dinner, a New Republic soiree, date night, etc. More everyday things than typical Star Wars things.


End file.
